Rochester

On to another Travelodge for the night. One thing about a Travelodge is you can pretty much guarantee what you will get - a room with a bed and another divan - both covered in a white duvet and three pillows. In the bathroom there will be one or two towels and the same number of bath mats depending on the generosity of the cleaner, two plastic water cups, two toilet rolls and one small soap. In the bedroom beside the bed there will be a tv, a jug, two white china cups and on a little white oblong tray, two tea bags, four coffee sachets (two decaffeinated and two not), four sugar sachets, four little UHT milks. The carpets are usually blue and so are the curtains and the walls are white. Oh yes there is a wardrobe with a few coat hangers as well. Although, the hotels are in various parts of England we sort of feel we know the room before we get there which incidentally was rather later than we had hoped on a Friday night after navigating the M25 around London. On the Saturday we headed to Tilbury Fort and for the first time across the Dartmouth crossing - tunnel below the Thames one way, and the other way a rather impressive bridge above the Thames. The fort is a bit of an unusual place - bizarre is the word that came to mind. The weather was a bit misty which added to the mystique of the place - far better than seeing it on a sunny day (no sarcasm intended). It is an old artillery fort built right on the shores of the Thames around the 16th century thanks to Charles II and all his men. It has been used over the centuries by lots of kings and queens to protect the Thames - the most notable Henry VIII and Queen Elizabeth I who gave her famous Armada speech (such powerful words) to encourage her troops in 1588.
"...Let tyrants fear; I have always so behaved myself that, under God, I have placed my chiefest strength and safeguard in the loyal hearts and good will of my subjects. And therefore I am come amongst you at this time, not as for my recreation or sport, but being resolved, in the midst and heat of the battle, to live or die amongst you all; to lay down, for my God, and for my kingdom, and for my people, my honour and my blood, even the dust. I know I have but the body of a weak and feeble woman; but I have the heart of a king, and of a king of England, too; and think foul scorn that Parma or Spain, or any prince of Europe, should dare to invade the borders of my realms: to which, rather than any dishonour should grow by me, I myself will take up arms...we shall shortly have a famous victory over the enemies of my God, of my kingdom, and of my people".
Part of the forts character is because it is surrounded by water - the river on one side and a series of moats on the other designed, I assumed, to be harder to break in to and easier to defend. It has a large array of tunnels and ammo stores and barracks etc. From an onlookers perspective the array of tunnels was not as impressive as in Wrights Hill, but who knows how many were actually underneath where we stood. It had separate tunnels for the oil lamps and another for the gunpowder and at each door there were instructions on how the men working in the tunnels were required to change clothing when arriving and leaving to ensure that no gunpowder was taken outside. Good health and safety rules. It seemed very remote from the war times as we wandered around and noticed that this piece of history was stuck in the middle of a power station, apartments, industrial sites, on a container ship route and it was a place where people came to ride horses and to fish. We also went inside one of the officers family homes - a bit like a terraced house. Like always, I spent more time looking at the stories and photos of war time participants and Harry spent time looking at the other things. Here is a letter from Fred Vere, a Prisoner of War in Germany.
28th January 1917
Dearest Mum and Dad, We are going up the line tomorrow. I had a lovely parcel from Sophie. A sultana cake, a dozen oxo cubes, a tin of fresh butter, a shaving brush, a saving kit wallet, trench paste, trench powder for the body, cough cure - beastly tasting, a large slab of toffee, paper and envelopes, an astringent pencil for cuts and bruises, two newspapers and lastly she sent me her crucifix, a lovely little thing I think it was awfully good. Your loving son Fred.
There were other letters sent between Fred and his loved ones and it reminded me how in such harsh conditions the little things are so important. Mind you, it doesn't matter how good life is it is so is good to know that people care.





And then over the Thames to the other side of Tilbury where we looked across at the fort and the industrial sites, boat yards and apartments but the horses and fishers were a bit too far away to see. We became kids for a while, making a kiwi from leaves beside the river and weren't too impressed when a 10 year old decided he would enjoy destroying our creation - I guess he was just one of those kids. We stood looking out for a while at the tug coming along spurting water from both sides and noticed that at low tide the Thames has lots of treasures such as shopping trolleys, tyres, witches hats and food for the geese (they were really enjoying playing around in the mud).

And onto Rochester. One of the first things we saw after the river and the bridge was a castle and we couldn't resist climbing the 200 or so steps to the top. The castle was built around the early 1100's and it was certainly quite well preserved inside -gone are the wooden floors etc but the stone work was in excellent condition and so too were most of the steps (others were replaced with more modern concrete bricks). We even wandered down into the basement where the cess pit and rubbish were kept until royalty left and then it was the job of the servant to haul it all out in buckets and sacks up the steps and through the main door. Pooh!! If I ever feel down about my job I'll remember there are worse ones that I could have (my nose is turning up at just the thought of the work of those poor servants). The castle stands high (it is apparently the tallest in England but not sure if that is because it is on a hill or not) and looks over the city and also across the Medway River. With autumn turning into winter there were some lovely colours in the scenery and so we took a few photos and spent some time at the top just looking. We looked over the cathedral - quite a lovely specimen and the second oldest in England. It was founded in early 600 AD by Bishop Justus but the current building dates back to the 11th century. We didn't go inside, but if we had we would have seen Norman architecture, some Romanesque facades and some Gothic styles and if we had had an appointment we could have seen one of the oldest doors in England (altogether not surprising since it is in one of the oldest cathedrals in England). Like a lot of cathedrals it became a Place for pilgrims during the 13th century. It all came about because of the murder of William of Perth, a Scottish baker. His body was brought to the Cathedral and when that happened miracles occurred (not sure which ones but they did!!). Outside on the footpath beside a grassy field there is a plaque saying that Pie Powder Courts were held and the Justice Tree once stood right where we were standing. We could guess what the Justice Tree was for (yes lynching and hanging) but the point of the Courts was a mystery to both of us. Apparently in small towns during the medieval times these courts 'presided' over Fairs, markets and seaports. It was the courts responsibility to settle disputes between buyers and sellers to make sure the quality of the goods was high enough and to check weights and measures. It was "chaired" by a man of standing who was usually called the Steward and was set up beside the fair or the market. Initially they were meant to enforce the law and collect trading taxes but because the market goers and traders were an unruly lot they began to settle disputes to avoid riots and other mayhem. Pie-powder comes from the French word "pied-pouldre" and "Pied-poudreaux", which translated means "dusty footed". It refers to the rather dirty state of the traders. Apparently, even now dictionaries will define a piepowder as "a traveller or wayfarer". Well, that's one story others think that the name refers to the bare ground rather where people traded - so take your pick.



Rochester has a well known author to thank partly for its tourism. Charles Dickens was born in 1812 into a naval family and they moved around quite a bit living some of their young family life in and around Rochester. He has been remembered as a young boy walking hand in hand with his father along the streets and then visiting his father in the debtors prison. This was perhaps the hardest time for Charles as he had to go to work (either in a company making boot blacking or bottle labels not sure which) to help the family but as soon as his Dad was released Charles returned to school and then on to become a legal clerk transcribing court cases and then a journalist. Dickens travelled quite a bit - over to Europe and America - and apparently a number of cities now pride themselves with links to the author. I read there was a sense of restlessness about him and that is perhaps why he divorced his wife after having numerous children - though that hasn't been substantiated with any reliable research. We found a little map called "Charles Dickens' Footsteps - Discover the inspiration behind the characters and settings of Dickens' novels" so in the twilight that is what we did. With the end of daylight saving darkness arrives very quickly and as we wandered around the town at 4.30 it felt more like 7.00. In our wanderings we found:

• Eastgate House - built in the Elizabethan times and which was once a boarding school for young - it featured in the Pickwick Papers.
• there is also the little Swiss Chalet where Dickens used to write. It used to be in Gads Hill Place where he grew up but was moved to Rochester at some time. It was given to him by a friend and arrived from Switzerland in 58 packing cases - a bit like a modern prefab I guess. He wrote some chapters of The Mystery of Edwin Drood upstairs here just before he died and never managed to finish the book.
  
• The Bull Inn which was the setting for the opening in the The Pickwick Papers. It is an old coaching inn and Dickens often stayed there. We didn't go in, but I imagine the sinking beamed ceilings and that smell of beer no longer hidden by smoke.
  
• The Guildhall was once the town hall and it was here in Great Expectations that Pip became an apprentice.
• Behind the cathedral is a little row of cottages known as Minor Canon Row. This, in the words of Dickens is, "a quiet place in the shadow of the cathedral, which... the echoing footsteps of rare passers... seemed to render more quiet than absolute silence." It used to be where the minor canons and organists lived - and looked like many other terraced houses of the time.
• Restoration House looks across the street to Vine Park. The house also featured in Great Expectations and Charles the Second stayed there on the night he was restored to the throne - hence the name of the house. Vines Park is a nice tree lined park where we kicked more autumn leaves, around the same place that Dickens leaned against a fence a few days before he died.
  
• Then there was a cute black and white timber building which was Mr Pumblechook's house in Great Expectations.

Some quotes from Charles Dickens

• “A loving heart is the truest wisdom.”
• “Have a heart that never hardens, and a temper that never tires, and a touch that never hurts.”
• “A Merry Christmas to everybody! A Happy New Year to all the world!”
• Cheerfulness and contentment are great beautifiers, and are fatuous preservers of youthful looks”
• “The whole difference between construction and creation is exactly this: that a thing constructed can only be loved after it is constructed; but a thing created is loved before it exists.”

On Sunday we arrived at Charles and Emma Darwins house in the Kent countryside. I didn't know that the Darwin family were related to the Wedgwoods (of porcelain fame) and this is where some of the money came from. Initially Darwin was planning to be a doctor but after playing at that for a while, switched to studying divinity. Five years later he joined a scientific expedition on the survey ship HMS Beagle. During the time on board - which would have been considerable as the journey took five years - he began to consider if God really did create the world in seven days. When he returned he experimented a lot and came up with his 'Theory of Evolution'. However, all though that is all very interesting what I did find even more interesting was that he went to New Zealand while travelling. But before I write about that - we did spend some time wandering around the house and then the garden. The house was rather a large family home, not really a mansion but a bigger house than most of the people we know live in. It had lots of his furniture and scribblings (oops notes) etc and was fairly typically laid out. The garden was testament to his experiments and thoughts and included:

• The greenhouses where Darwin studied plant growth, pollination and variation which have now been restored and contain orchids and carnivorous plants - two of Darwin's special interests.
• The flower garden outside the drawing room, restored to its former proportions was used by Darwin's family as an extra room. The sundial has been moved into its original position.
• The lawn, which contains rare grassland fungi, is the principal reason why the garden has been designated a Site of Nature Conservation Interest by the Kent Wildlife Trust - sorry to say we only saw too big mushrooms.
• Darwin's 'Sand-walk' or 'thinking path'; was created. Darwin would take his daily constitutional and walk a number of times around the sand-walk counting the laps with flints piled at the beginning of the circuit. It was strolling around this path where he did most of his thinking. We didn't have the opportunity of walking around the path and doing our own thinking as it was closed - presumably because of the wind and rain.
  
• An experimental "wormstone" laid in the lawn - which looked like a piece of lawn to us but no doubt the worms were enjoying the roots and soil around the chestnut tree.
• The weed garden - very small - could easily be missed - but we saw it. It helped Darwin to understand more about the natural selection process and was used in experiments that led to the publishing of his book 'On the Origin of Species'.
  
• A tennis court which was shaped like a very wide egg timer (ie thin in the middle and thicker at both ends). This was the original tennis game created by a guy called Wingfield.
  
  In the house there was a map of his travels and it appeared that the Beagle did stop over in New Zealand. So we were curious to find out more when we got home and what he thought about our plants, trees, animals and cute little flightless birds. Well, they did come ashore and spent Christmas there one year...and here are some thoughts from his diary which makes fascinating reading.
  
  "December 19th. -- In the evening we saw in the distance New Zealand. We may now consider that we have nearly crossed the Pacific. It is necessary to sail over this great ocean to comprehend its immensity. Moving quickly onwards for weeks together, we meet with nothing but the same blue, profoundly deep, ocean. A gale of wind lasting for some days, has lately given us full leisure to measure the future stages in our homeward voyage, and to wish most earnestly for its termination. December 21st. -Early in the morning we entered the Bay of Islands, and being becalmed for some hours near the mouth, we did not reach the anchorage till the middle of the day. The country is hilly, with a smooth outline, and is deeply intersected by numerous arms of the sea extending from the bay. The surface appears from a distance as if clothed with coarse pasture, but this in truth is nothing but fern. On the more distant hills, as well as in parts of the valleys, there is a good deal of woodland... In several parts of the bay, little villages of square tidy looking houses are scattered close down to the water's edge. Three whaling-ships were lying at anchor, and a canoe every now and then crossed from shore to shore; with these exceptions, an air of extreme quietness reigned over the whole district...In the afternoon we went on shore to one of the larger groups of houses, which yet hardly deserves the title of a village. Its name is Pahia: it is the residence of the missionaries; and there are no native residents except servants and labourers. In the vicinity of the Bay of Islands, the number of Englishmen, including their families, amounts to between two and three hundred. All the cottages, many of which are white-washed and look very neat, are the property of the English. The hovels of the natives are so diminutive and paltry, that they can scarcely be perceived from a distance. At Pahia, it was quite pleasing to behold the English flowers in the gardens before the houses; there were roses of several kinds, honeysuckle, jasmine, stocks, and whole hedges of sweetbrier.
  December 22nd. -- In the morning I went out walking; but I soon found that the country was very impracticable. All the hills are thickly covered with tall fern, together with a low bush which grows like a cypress; and very little ground has been cleared or cultivated. I then tried the sea-beach; but proceeding towards either hand, my walk was soon stopped by salt-water creeks and deep brooks... I was surprised to find that almost every hill which I ascended, had been at some former time more or less fortified. The summits were cut into steps or successive terraces, and frequently they had been protected by deep trenches. I afterwards observed that the principal hills inland in like manner showed an artificial outline. These are the Pas, so frequently mentioned by Captain Cook under the name of "hippah;" the difference of sound being owing to the prefixed article...These Pas are considered by the New Zealanders as very perfect means of defence: for the attacking force is never so well disciplined as to rush in a body to the stockade, cut it down, and effect their entry. When a tribe goes to war, the chief cannot order one party to go here and another there; but every man fights in the manner which best pleases himself; and to each separate individual to approach a stockade defended by fire-arms must appear certain death. I should think a more warlike race of inhabitants could not be found in any part of the world than the New Zealanders. Their conduct on first seeing a ship, as described by Captain Cook, strongly illustrates this: the act of throwing volleys of stones at so great and novel an object, and their defiance of "Come on shore and we will kill and eat you all," shows uncommon boldness. This warlike spirit is evident in many of their customs, and even in their smallest actions... At the present day, from the progress of civilization, there is much less warfare, except among some of the southern tribes. In the evening I went with Captain Fitz Roy and Mr. Baker, one of the missionaries, to pay a visit to Kororadika: we wandered about the village, and saw and conversed with many of the people, both men, women, and children. Looking at the New Zealander, one naturally compares him with the Tahitian; both belonging to the same family of mankind...But their persons and houses are filthily dirty and offensive: the idea of washing either their bodies or their clothes never seems to enter their heads. I saw a chief, who was wearing a shirt black and matted with filth, and when asked how it came to be so dirty, he replied, with surprise, "Do not you see it is an old one?" Some of the men have shirts; but the common dress is one or two large blankets, generally black with dirt, which are thrown over their shoulders in a very inconvenient and awkward fashion. A few of the principal chiefs have decent suits of English clothes; but these are only worn on great occasions.
  December 23rd. -- At a place called Waimate, about fifteen miles from the Bay of Islands, and midway between the eastern and western coasts, the missionaries have purchased some land for agricultural purposes. I had been introduced to the Rev. W. Williams, who, upon my expressing a wish, invited me to pay him a visit there. Mr. Bushby, the British resident, offered to take me in his boat by a creek, where I should see a pretty waterfall, and by which means my walk would be shortened. He likewise procured for me a guide. Upon asking a neighbouring chief to recommend a man, the chief himself offered to go; but his ignorance of the value of money was so complete, that at first he asked how many pounds I would give him, but afterwards was well contented with two pounds...We now commenced our walk. The road lay along a well beaten path, bordered on each side by the tall fern, which covers the whole country. After travelling some miles, we came to a little country village, where a few hovels were collected together, and some patches of ground cultivated with potatoes. The introduction of the potato has been the most essential benefit to the island; it is now much more used than any native vegetable. New Zealand is favoured by one great natural advantage; namely, that the inhabitants can never perish from famine. The whole country abounds with fern: and the roots of this plant, if not very palatable, yet contain much nutriment. A native can always subsist on these, and on the shell-fish, which are abundant on all parts of the sea-coast...On coming near one of the huts I was much amused by seeing in due form the ceremony of rubbing, or, as it ought to be called, pressing noses. The women, on our first approach, began uttering something in a most dolorous voice; they then squatted themselves down and held up their faces; my companion standing over them, one after another, placed the bridge of his nose at right angles to theirs, and commenced pressing. This lasted rather longer than a cordial shake of the hand with us, and as we vary the force of the grasp of the hand in shaking, so do they in pressing. During the process they uttered comfortable little grunts, very much in the same manner as two pigs do, when rubbing against each other...The ceremony of pressing noses having been duly completed with all present, we seated ourselves in a circle in the front of one of the-hovels, and rested there half-an-hour. All the hovels have nearly the same form and dimensions, and all agree in being filthily dirty. They resemble a cow- shed with one end open, but having a partition a little way within, with a square hole in it, making a small gloomy chamber. In this the inhabitants keep all their property, and when the weather is cold they sleep there. They eat, however, and pass their time in the open part in front...The soil is volcanic; in several parts we passed over shaggy lavas, and craters could clearly be distinguished on several of the neighbouring hills. Although the scenery is nowhere beautiful, and only occasionally pretty, I enjoyed my walk. I should have enjoyed it more, if my companion, the chief, had not possessed extraordinary conversational powers. I knew only three words: "good," "bad," and "yes:" and with these I answered all his remarks, without of course having understood one word he said. This, however, was quite sufficient: I was a good listener, an agreeable person, and he never ceased talking to me.At length we reached Waimate... But I cannot attempt to describe all I saw; there were large gardens, with every fruit and vegetable which England produces; and many belonging to a warmer clime. I may instance asparagus, kidney beans, cucumbers, rhubarb, apples, pears, figs, peaches, apricots, grapes, olives, gooseberries, currants, hops, gorse for fences, and English oaks; also many kinds of flowers. Around the farm-yard there were stables, a thrashing-barn with its winnowing machine, a blacksmith's forge, and on the ground ploughshares and other tools: in the middle was that happy mixture of pigs and poultry, lying comfortably together, as in every English farm-yard. At the distance of a few hundred yards, where the water of a little rill had been dammed up into a pool, there was a large and substantial water-mill...Late in the evening I went to Mr. Williams's house, where I passed the night. I found there a large party of children, collected together for Christmas Day, and all sitting round a table at tea. I never saw a nicer or more merry group; and to think that this was in the centre of the land of cannibalism, murder, and all atrocious crimes! The cordiality and happiness so plainly pictured in the faces of the little circle, appeared equally felt by the older persons of the mission.
  
  December 24th. -- In the morning, prayers were read in the native tongue to the whole family. After breakfast I rambled about the gardens and farm. This was a market- day, when the natives of the surrounding hamlets bring their potatoes, Indian corn, or pigs, to exchange for blankets, tobacco, and sometimes, through the persuasions of the missionaries, for soap. Mr. Davies's eldest son, who manages a farm of his own, is the man of business in the market. The children of the missionaries, who came while young to the island, understand the language better than their parents, and can get anything more readily done by the natives.A little before noon Messrs. Williams and Davies walked with me to a part of a neighbouring forest, to show me the famous kauri pine. I measured one of the noble trees, and found it thirty-one feet in circumference above the roots...These trees are remarkable for their smooth cylindrical boles, which run up to a height of sixty, and even ninety feet, with a nearly equal diameter, and without a single branch. The crown of branches at the summit is out of all proportion small to the trunk; and the leaves are likewise small compared with the branches.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Christmas Day. -- In a few more days the fourth year of our absence from England will be completed. Our first Christmas Day was spent at Plymouth, the second at St. Martin's Cove, near Cape Horn; the third at Port Desire, in Patagonia; the fourth at anchor in a wild harbour in the peninsula of Tres Montes, this fifth here, and the next, I trust in Providence, will be in England. We attended divine service in the chapel of Pahia; part of the service being read in English, and part in the native language. Whilst at New Zealand we did not hear of any recent acts of cannibalism; but Mr. Stokes found burnt human bones strewed round a fire-place on a small island near the anchorage; but these remains of a comfortable banquet might have been lying there for several years. It is probable that the moral state of the people will rapidly improve.
  
  
  December 26th. -- Mr. Bushby offered to take Mr. Sulivan and myself in his boat some miles up the river to Cawa- Cawa, and proposed afterwards to walk on to the village of Waiomio, where there are some curious rocks. Following one of the arms of the bay, we enjoyed a pleasant row, and passed through pretty scenery, until we came to a village, beyond which the boat could not pass...Here there are some singular masses of limestone, resembling ruined castles. These rocks have long served for burial places, and in consequence are held too sacred to be approached.
  
  December 30th. -- In the afternoon we stood out of the Bay of Islands, on our course to Sydney. I believe we were all glad to leave New Zealand. It is not a pleasant place. Amongst the natives there is absent that charming simplicity which is found in Tahiti; and the greater part of the English are the very refuse of society. Neither is the country itself attractive. I look back but to one bright spot, and that is Waimate, with its Christian inhabitants".http://www.bartleby.com/29/
  The quote is a bit long but I found it quite interesting what an Englishman thought of New Zealand then and now there are so many that would love to live in our beautiful country. Anyway, there has been a bit of a mystery about what happened to the Beagle after its famous trip. Not long ago they think they found its remains in a marsh in Essex (in five metres of mud they think - there is lots of it over here).
  
  After our visit to Darwin's house we went to the local village Downe and found a nice pub to enjoy a Sunday roast. It was built in the 1580's and has its own door to the bar where Darwin drank with his friends. In the room that we sat were pictures of aeroplanes and poems as this was once where the officers from the local aerodrome (Biggin Hill) came for lunch on a Sunday. We were the only ones in the room for a while but we could picture 20 or so men enjoying their lunch, smoking their pipes and having a social time but always in the back of their mind that it could be their last such gathering. We enjoyed lunch and then wandered through to the bar where Darwin often took his friends for a relaxing drink. Some quotes from Darwin:
  
  
  
  
  
  
• "A man's friendships are one of the best measures of his worth".
  
  
• "A man who dares to waste one hour of time has not discovered the value of life".
  
  
• "It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent that survives. It is the one that is the most adaptable to change".
  
  
  
• 
  It rained quite a bit on Sunday morning and stopped just as we had finished touring Darwin's garden. There were a group of people who would have been very keen for it to finish a bit earlier. It was the London to Brighton Veteran Car Run on Sunday. The run first began in 1896 (it was a wet day then too) and to participate your car needed to be built before 1905 - usually over 400 participate. They all meet in Hyde Park on the first Sunday in November at sunrise and travel 54 miles to Brighton. It isn't far - we've done it in less than an hour but these cars don't travel fast and they don't go on the motorway. It would have been particularly slow this year, with the wind against them and rain driving in. We drove past a few going in the opposite direction and then decided we needed to take a closer look - pulled over and took the camera out. As a car came close Harry turned the wipers on and off as I snapped the camera. It was a great sight and one we could have watched for ages if the weather had been better. This year there were over 500 starters with a lot less finishers if the number of break downs along the way is anything to go by.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  And to finish the week off. In Aberdeen an elderly shopper claimed that he was stopped from buying two lemons in a supermarket. The shop assistant explained that they had had a few problems with 'yobs' pelting shoppers with lemons and that they were not allowed to sell more than one loose lemon, orange or grapefruit at a time - new health and safety rules. He could however buy a pack of 10 lemons because they were smaller and considered less dangerous. When the elderly shopper questioned the decision the supervisor was called in and agreed with the cashier. Eventually, the gentleman was allowed to buy the two lemons but he had to pay for one and then the other - so it was two separate transactions. I think I'll try it next time we go to that supermarket chain and see if like the old gentleman we are classed as 'yobs'.